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Thanks to Gwen returning Jack’s wrist strap, he was able to signal the freighter to pick him up. He did not stay there long, just long enough to get to the next place. Keep moving. He reflected that this is what the Doctor did and it seemed to work for him. He understood, finally, why the Doctor always ran, never stayed to clean up. The clean-up made the pain and suffering too real. Jack had told the Doctor that his Torchwood was different, but in the end, it was the same as all the others.
Jack led a reckless life, must have died at least once a day (sometimes more), but nothing made the pain any better. Then he turned to alcohol. Alcohol meant a slow death for him, since he metabolized it so quickly. A slow death... That is what he deserved. He stared into his drink as he thought about what he had said to the Doctor so many years ago, the Doctor himself had been a different person, “I was better off a coward.” He then took a gulp and it burned its way going down. The drink was deadly to humans. The acidic nature meant it was literally burning his esophagus and stomach as he drank it. But he did not care. It was what he deserved. Being a strong leader had led to so many deaths, those people were certainly better off with him as a coward.
He had lived like this for six months. Six months had passed since he left Gwen standing there in tears, twelve months since he had killed Stephen and Ianto. No, he had not killed Ianto as he had killed Stephen, but he was still responsible for Ianto's death. He wanted death, but even death was too kind for him, he knew that he would come back. No, what he wanted was to suffer physically the way he was suffering within his heart. Again, poisoning seemed as good as anything else did.
He had frequented many bars in the time he had been away. This bar he was not as backwards. He glanced around and took in the various creatures that were there. Happy and upbeat tunes played and it was well lit and maintained. As he glanced around the area, he thought the Doctor would probably feel quite at home here. Every creature in the universe seemed to have gathered here, but even that did not help his foul mood. That made it worse actually, as he thought that the Doctor had taken the time to save everyone else, but not him.
Jack was about to raise the glass again when a male hand with long slender fingers rested on top of it, preventing him from lifting it. Without Jack looking up, the man speaking or noticing the pinstriped cuffs near the hand, Jack knew who it was. The man spoke no words as he sat in a chair opposite Jack, dragging the glass out of Jack's reach as he did so. The men sat in silence and Jack did not lift his head. He eyes still focused on the spot that the tumbler had once occupied.
Suddenly the Doctor gasped in pain. Jack could tell that he was trying to hide it, but Jack was an old hand at dying and new what that sound meant. Jack did not address it, though. He knew the Doctor would, if he wanted to. Finally, the Doctor spoke, “I had to come see you.”
Jack was broken tremendously, but had to know, "Why now, why couldn’t you come sooner?"
The Doctor held Jack's gaze, lightly tapping the side of his head, "Timelines," he said simply.
The arrogance of the statement sent Jack into a rage, the alcohol helping it along, "I waited for you to come and you didn't!"
The Doctor had expected this and remained calm, "I didn't know."
Jack stared at the Doctor in disbelief, arms folded across his chest. The Doctor continued, his speech quickening a bit, "Ok, I knew it was going to happen. But, I didn't realize that it was happening as it was happening. You know things don't always happen to me in the right order." The Doctor sighed and continued, "Communications had been cut off. By the time I figured it out... it was too late. The timeline had been fixed." The Doctor's look shifted to one of sadness and compassion, "Jack, I am so s-."
"Don't you dare finish that," he interrupted the Doctor with a low and dangerous voice.
For a moment, the Doctor looked as if he might finish his sentence anyway, but he closed his mouth with a click and nodded his head. Jack calmed down a bit, "You said timelines had been fixed... because of me, because I'm a fixed point," it was a statement.
The Doctor's face was unreadable. Jack nodded and reached for the glass the Doctor was guarding. The Doctor moved it even closer to himself. Jack sat back in his chair, sighing frustrated, "How did you find me and why?"
The Time Lord tapped the side of his head again, "Finding you was the easy part. As to why," the Doctor sighed debating which truth to reveal, "Because...” He paused, but decided that Jack needed this truth, “I’m dying and this time… I may not regenerate.” The Doctor was not completely sure how Jack would respond to the news. There was silence, the Doctor kept staring at Jack and finally said, "Say it!" Jack raised an eyebrow and the Doctor shifted his chair around the table closer to Jack and said, "Go on, say it."
The Doctor was expecting Jack to blame him for not helping and to say he hated him. Jack reached for the glass successfully and swallowed what liquid remained, "I have nothing to say to you!" There was a pause while Jack gained courage, "Y-you don't," he broke off.
The Doctor leaned in close, his voice only a whisper, but it had an edge to it, "I don't, what? I don't understand?" He paused, waiting to see if the Captain would respond. When none came, he continued, "You honestly think I don't understand?" Another pause, again no reaction, "You might find I'm the only one who does!"
Jack began softly, "I killed him. My own grandson... The military soldiers captured him from the hallway, held his mother down..." he broke off as a flood of emotion hit him. The Doctor did not touch him. Jack gasped as the pain hit him afresh, "She didn't get to say goodbye. We locked her out of the control room. I forced myself to watch as my actions killed him. Oh God, Doctor, you should have heard her scream when she finally held him, my poor Alice and Ste-." Jack broke, unable to say the name. It was the first time Jack had addressed the Doctor since he revealed his presence. More softly, Jack repeated, "I didn't even let her say goodbye..." The Doctor reached out and took one of Jack's hands in his own. Jack snapped his hand back, "Stop it! I should be comforting you!"
The Doctor looked steadily at him, "Jack..." he pronounced each letter of the name, as he had at the end of the universe when Jack was standing in a reactor core. Jack shrank into the chair, making himself as small as possible. "Jack," the Doctor said again, softly this time, but commanding Jack's attention, "I wanted to find you. Dying wish and all that."
Jack raised his voice in reply, "Y-you came here to rub your self-righteous Time Lord self in my face. Proving how you can so easily move on from one tragedy to the next. You came here because I'm falling apart and y-you are so d-disappointed in me and you'll keep me in the T-TARDIS like you planned to do with the M-Master. B-because the universe is not s-safe with me around." Tears were streaming down the Captain's cheeks, but he did not notice. Though his words were like venom, he cowered in his chair, afraid of the wrath of the Oncoming Storm.
The Doctor looked at Jack, sorrow filling him and continued in his soft voice, "If that is how you feel, then I have only one thing to say to you." The Doctor swept in quickly, before Jack had a chance to react. The Doctor draped his arms around Jack and pulled him into a hug. Finally, the Doctor spoke, "It's not your fault." He paused for a moment, "Jack, it's not your fault."
Jack tried weakly to fight against the Doctor, in both words and actions. All the while, the Doctor was repeating, "It's not your fault," never releasing his hug. As the Doctor was resting his chin on top of Jack's head, several tears escaped the Doctor's eyes and landed quietly in Jack's hair. After several minutes, both men became aware of their surroundings and reclaimed their composure. Jack met the Time Lord's eyes as he tried to control his tears, "I'm sorry."
It was two simple words, but everything that Jack Harkness was at that moment was summed up in them. The Doctor looked at him with an expression that contained nothing but compassion and love. He spoke only two words, "I'm not," and smiled softly.
Jack laughed ironically, “Some send off I’m giving you.”
The Doctor allowed a trace of a smile, “You’re part of my reward, Jack. None of this is about me.”
Jack nodded, “I need a refill, can I get you anything?”
The Doctor shook his head, “No, but I might be able to get something for you. Go on and get your drink.”
As Jack waited in line, the Doctor went to make his exit. He could not actually say goodbye. He and Jack could never say that word to each other. As he was making his way through the bar, he saw Alonso Frame. The Doctor smiled remembering the Titanic, but frowned at how desolated the young man looked. The Doctor slowly approached him, “Mid-shipman Frame! Fancy seeing you here.”
The Doctor grinned, hiding the pain that was building again. Frame sat a bit straighter, “Doctor, Sir! Good to see you again!”
The Doctor smiled, “How are things for you?”
Frame grimaced; he could not lie to the man who had saved his life, “Well, been a bit rough, actually. Although no one blames me for what happened, no one wants to hire me either.”
The Doctor’s face fell. Here was another example of what happens to those he leaves behind, “I’m sorry. Really I am.”
Frame nodded a bit absently, “I’ll find something eventually.”
The Doctor looked over him, “You know, I think you need to travel for awhile and let yourself be cared for.”
Alonso just shrugged, but the pieces were already coming together in his mind. Neither Jack nor Alonso would be looking for anything long-term, but they both needed someone to… stop them, as Donna would say. The Doctor gasped more from the memory than from pain. Before he knew what he was doing, he was scribbling a note and handing it to the barkeep. Those two would be good for each other and if this was his death, at least he was leaving them with someone to look after them. He gave the note to the barkeep with instructions to give it to Jack and made his way to the door.
A lifetime of conversations happened in the few passing glances they exchanged. Jack knew that he might never see the Doctor again and offered a final salute. The Doctor returned it with a casual salute of his own. Nothing would make the pain any of them were feeling any better, but somehow, knowing they were not alone in it made the pain bearable.